When it rains, the streets of Chicago
Shine like jewels, though it's just broken glass
When the sun shines, dirty pigeons
Coo like doves in the dying trees

And the drunks going through the garbage
In the alley behind my house
Smile up at the falling buildings
So bittersweet, like crying clowns

And through the cars bouncing over potholes
Children weave on stolen bikes
Vacant lots are full of old men
Searching for 1925

And in the park, slowly, women
Tossing bread to their rabid dogs
Smile at the passing airplanes
As if the sky were full of snow-white swans

And the drunks going through the garbage
In the alley behind my house
Smile up at the falling buildings
So bittersweet, like crying clowns